Officer Lunchbox Minifics
by acaelousqueadcentrum
Summary: Short responses to prompts featuring Gail and Holly.
1. Miles and Miles Away

"Why don't you come up and see me sometime," the bartender said as she slipped a card with her number on it into Holly's hand, "we usually play a set or two on Fridays."

Holly smiled but put the card back on the bar, reaching for the pen to sign her bill and leave a tip. "Thanks," she said in return, and slid the black folder back, "but I'm not, well, I'm taken." She pulled the necklace out from under her shirt, where a gold band hung.

The bartender looked embarrassed, but Holly shook her head gently. "Sorry," she said sheepishly, "it's only been two months, so sometimes after work I forget to put it back on."

"Your wife is a really lucky woman," the bartender replied, "I hope she knows that."

But Holly shook her head and laughed, "I try to tell her, but she thinks I'm the lucky one. And she's probably right."

The bartender smiled softly in return, and Holly gathered up her things to head out into the light evening rain. Outside, she could see the lights of the Golden Gate Bridge twinkling across the bay and she pulled out her phone and dialed the familiar number.

"Hey, baby," she whispered into the voicemail, "I know you're on late tonight, but I just wanted to let you know I'm thinking of you and missing you. And that a hot bartender thinks you should count yourself lucky for landing a babe like me."

She whispered an heartfelt "I love you" and then ended the call, letting herself look for a moment at the picture of Gail, and the title there on the contact card. "Wife."


	2. Go and Do Your Thing

"Peck Games?" Holly asked and looked over to Traci.

"Seriously," the detective groaned and rolled her eyes at her husband and sister-in-law as they bumped and nudged each other back and forth on their way to the bar, "don't ask."

"But what is it," Holly asked again, turning back toward the table.

Traci sighed. "Okay," she said, "imagine a kind of backyard Olympics, something a frat house would put together for pledge week."

She paused for effect.

"Now imagine that those two idiots–," she pointed to the blondes walking back with two pints a piece, "–are the ones who thought it up."

"Jesus," Holly whistled, making a mental note to make sure she had the most recent copy of Gail's insurance card in her wallet later.

"And that," Traci said with a grimace, "is the Peck Games."

"No way, they're planning another Peck Games?" Chris exclaimed, sliding into the booth with Nick close behind.

"Count me in," Collins added, "I mean, there's always about a seventy percent chance someone will lose an eye, but honestly, it's worth it."

Gail put the beers on the table and then climbed over Chris to sit on Holly's lap, slapping away the other officer's hand as he tried to steal one of her cold pints.

"Yes, you can come, Nicholas," she said and sipped at her beer, "the more competition, the better."

Steve dumped a platter of poutine on the table and a kiss on the crown of Traci's head as he settled back into his seat. "If you do come, Nick, it'll be just like the original. Remember that? Gail's eighteenth-birthday? How many stitches did you end up getting that weekend?"

Nick rolled up his sleeve to show off a scar just beyond his elbow. "Seven," he asked, not entirely able to remember, "maybe eight?"

"It was eight," Gail butted in, "you tried to beat me to the finish line by sliding between my legs but you caught some broken glass buried in the sand and sliced up your arm pretty good."

"But," she said with a grin, "you didn't cry a single tear, so you came in ahead of Steve that year."

Her brother kicked at her legs under the table, missed, and hit Holly instead. "Sorry, Hol," he started before looking at his sister. "It was during the E.T. event, and I fell off Ben Sadler's handlebars and onto the front wheel. With my junk. You would have cried too."

Traci just looked across the table at Holly, a look of I-told-you-so all over her face.

* * *

"So you guys just think up events and compete in them? For what," Holly asked later that night as she pulled back the covers on her side of the bed and slipped in next to Gail, "I mean, what does the winner get?"

"The right to mock the loser for the rest of their life. Or until the next Games," Gail answered. "It started as as a way to decide who the better Peck was, but eventually it turned into a way to freak Elaine out. The winner would think up some outrageous thing that the losers had to do. So one year when I lost Steve made me dye my hair pink and keep it that way for a month, right before the Christmas holidays. And when I won, I made Nick talk only in Pig-Latin when he came as my date to one of Bill's award dinners."

She turned off the light next to the bed and curled into Holly's warm body, tucking her toes under her girlfriend's feet.

"The last time we got together a bunch of people for it, the stakes were a tattoo. One of our cousins won that year," the blonde said against the soft material of Holly's pajama shirt.

"But you don't have any tattoos," Holly asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, we all agreed that getting temporary ones and texting them to Elaine and Aunt Marcy would be enough," her girlfriend answered.

Holly hmmm'd and ran her hand up and under Gail's shirt, letting it rest against the smooth skin of the officer's back. "Clever," she said, closing her eyes and letting the dark night carry her toward morning.

* * *

The weekend actually turned out to be a lot of fun. And nobody poked their eye out.

It ended up being just the two of them, Steve and Traci, and then Nick, Chris, Andy, and one of the many Peck cousins. The Peck cabin was filled with loud laughter, friendly and not-so-friendly ribbing, and late-evening S'more-fests in front of the large fireplace in the family room.

Bright and early Saturday morning, Steve and Gail had picked their teams. Apparently attempting to psych is sister out, who lost the coin toss for first pick, Steve picked Holly for his team. But Gail just selected Nick on her turn, and then Chris, and then got stuck with Andy in the last round.

But once the teams were set, the game was, to steal a turn of phrase from one of Holly's literary heroes, afoot.

It was tight, and it was dirty, but in the end, Steve and the Captain Awesomes prevailed over Gail and her Persnickity Pecks.

Which meant, as Steve and the rest of the winners decreed, that the losers had to pierce a nipple.

Of course, no one expected any of the losers to actually get a nipple pierced. That would be absurd, really. The real task was simply to make one's way to a piercing salon and get a picture as if they were about to get the procedure done. Just enough that Elaine would be appalled if she ever saw the picture.

Still, as Holly watched Andy walk gingerly over to the table the Wednesday after their weekend fun, she couldn't help but wonder. The woman looked tremendously uncomfortable, squirming and grimacing with every movement of her upper body.

"Gail," she whispered sharply into her girlfriend's ear, "you guys remembered to tell Andy it was just a joke, right?"


End file.
